


Just For Now

by Rhianona



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-17
Updated: 2008-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhianona/pseuds/Rhianona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after she left Cardiff, Emma returns for a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just For Now

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: [Insert witty comment here]
> 
> For the galpalficathon. Prompt was Emma and Gwen, one year later

Emma telephones Gwen from the bus station. She hopes Rhys knows she's coming to celebrate the holidays with the couple - she really doesn't want a repeat of last time. Of course, Rhys knows about Torchwood this time around, which will likely make a difference. Still doesn't stop her from feeling nervous.

She's adjusted to living in the early 21st Century; she sometimes thinks her youth actually helped her in this. The others who had arrived with her are gone. It angers her in a way that she doesn't quite understand. Captain Harkness had; he had called her six months ago for a check up. "Just part of our job, no need to worry," he assured her. "Just want to see how you're handling the 21st Century."

"Fine, thank you," she replied before describing her position with the fashion house she managed to get on the strength of her clothing. Who knew that the fashion from her own time would, some fifty years later, be the very height of haute couture? Her voice broke while telling him that; he soothed her - difficult over the phone, but he managed. "You'll adjust. I can promise you that." She heard the truth in his words, sniffed, and agreed with him.

She likes her job, and loves London. If she misses her family and friends, she never mentions it. Gwen's been determined to play surrogate and Emma is happy to let her do so. Gwen is like her older sister and dispenses advice on boys and girls and fashion and hobbies. Emma knows that Gwen wishes she lived closer, but Emma needed to get away from Cardiff and the stark reminder that she's only here because she fell through the Rift. After Diane took off, determined to try and find the way home, and Mr. Ellis took his life, unable to cope, Emma had realized she needed to get away.

So she did. She's made friends in London, at work, and at the pub. She's learning what she needs to know - what people her age know and take for granted. Gwen had forwarded her the list made by Beloit College that listed what incoming first year students knew and didn't know from a cultural perspective. It's helped a lot. Fortunately, she can blame some of her naivety on being from a small town.

Cardiff looks almost exactly the same as it did last year when she climbed onto a bus to London, ready to start her new life. She doesn't see Gwen when she exits. She waits a bit longer before telephoning her.

"Emma! Oh, good, you're here sweetheart. I'm so sorry I'm not there. I'm running a bit late," Gwen gushes over the phone. "Don't you move; I'll be there in a few minutes. Rhys has a fantastic dinner planned out for us."

"I hope he's not going to too much trouble," Emma frets, remembering how less than pleased he had been to find out that she wasn't, as Gwen had claimed, a cousin down on her luck.

"Oh, no! He's excited that you're here," Gwen assures her. Emma's not too sure about that, but she's willing to take Gwen's word.

Gwen looks drawn and tired. Emma wonders if this is what Torchwood does to people. Oh, she's still bubbly and friendly, asking Emma about her trip and her flat, and her new friends and the job, but there's a frenetic energy to Gwen that Emma knows isn't just due to wedding plans.

***

Dinner is terrific; Rhys is just as good a cook now as he was a year ago, and conversation comes easy. He pulls her aside almost as soon as she enters their flat. "Emma, I just want to tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you last year," he begins, looking a bit awkward.

"No worries, Rhys," Emma smiles. "I don't blame you."

"Oh, good, then. Um… 'fraid it's the couch again for you. Hope you don't mind?"

"No, no. That'll be fine." Emma blushes as she remembers her introduction to Gwen's then-boyfriend. Rhys is the first man she's ever seen starkers; she doesn't want a repeat, no matter how nice he is.

Later, Gwen tells her that they'll be going out tomorrow night, but if she wants to hit the pub or a club, to feel free, pressing a key into her hand. Emma shrugs. She doesn't know anyone in Cardiff except Torchwood, and she's only here because Gwen asked her to visit. She's not feeling keen on going out tonight. "A night of telly is fine," she tells her hostess.

***

Gwen's called into Torchwood in the middle of the night, waking Emma as she hurriedly leaves. Emma drifts back to sleep, wondering if this is normal. She also wonders how Rhys ever managed to handle Gwen's job, when he knew nothing about Torchwood. But then, Gwen had worked for the police force before Torchwood, so perhaps the adjustment wasn't too difficult. Emma doesn't know exactly what Gwen did as a PC, but figures it must have been something to get Torchwood to notice her. She drifts back to sleep, wondering if she'll actually see Gwen during this visit after all.

***

Cardiff looks exactly as it had one year ago. Emma wanders around the shops, before purchasing a book and settling in a coffee shop. As welcoming as both Gwen and Rhys have been, she doesn't feel all that comfortable at staying in their flat while they are at work. She knows it's silly, but ingrained manners don't evaporate over night.

"There you are!" Gwen says from behind her and Emma looks up startled. "Jack let me leave early, since I was called in this morning. I thought we might have some girl talk." Emma wonders how Gwen knew where she was, but figured it was some mysterious Torchwood thing.

Sometimes it scares her just what Torchwood can do - and she knows that she barely knows how much power they have and wield.

Gwen doesn't look as stressed as she had yesterday though, and that's probably a good thing. She waits while Emma finishes her coffee, before dragging her to a bridal shop. "I know the wedding isn't for another couple of months, but I don't know when work will call me in," Gwen explains, apologetic for forcing Emma to give her opinion. "Besides, you must know something about fashion, given your job."

Emma matches Gwen's grin in the mirror, before disappearing behind a rack of dresses, and looking to see what would suit her friend. She pulls out a few that she thinks might be nice for Gwen and hands them to her to try on.

It's so strange to go to a shop and purchase all of her clothes. She had made a lot of her own clothes in her original time; her mother had taught her how to pick the best fabrics, how to cut out the pieces of the patterns in the best way, so as to not waste the material, how to hem and how to sew a straight line.

And now she uses those skills in her chosen profession, gaining praise for something she had learned as a child. It's very disconcerting.

***

They make their way back to the flat in time for dinner. "It's just spag bol," Rhys apologizes.

"I'm sure it's wonderful," Emma replies, a warm smile on her face and it is. After dinner, she helps with the clean up, before excusing herself to freshen up. She returns to the room just in time to hear Rhys explaining to Gwen that Banana Boat and Daf need him for the pub quiz tonight, so it will just be a girl's night.

"'Sides, you two don't need me, Gwen," Rhys pleads.

Emma sees Gwen holding in a smile, before her trademark huge grin spills across her face. "Oh, go on then. Have fun with the boys."

"Just don't you go and pick up someone to replace me, you hear?"

"Never, sweetheart. No one else would put up with me." A hint of truth lingers in Gwen's words and Emma wonders at that. Then Rhys leaves with a kiss and a nod and it's just the two of them.

"Well, then," Gwen starts. "Let's get changed and head out."

***

They go to a different club than the one Gwen and Rhys had taken her last year. Emma still finds the music loud and strange, but she's not the shy and naive girl from the year before. She and Gwen order a couple of girly drinks before finding a place to sit. The music pounds in the club, beating in time with her heart and if she closes her eyes, she thinks she could see the sound waves forming from the deep throb of the bass.

"You know, you can go out there and dance," Gwen offers as she catches Emma looking at the crowded sea of people moving to the music.

She shakes her head no. This is not dancing, not how she knows it. A year in this time, and it still doesn't feel right. She's adjusted to most things, but this is not one of them. When she's in London, she can pretend; she sticks with her friends and moves her body, safe among many. Here and now, it's just her and Gwen, and she doesn't want to dance against strangers. Not this type of dancing. She's not the naive eighteen-year old she had been a year ago, but the simulated sex that embodies dancing in the 21st Century, is not something in which she wishes to participate.

Maybe Gwen sees this in her eyes, because she leans close to her and grasps her hand. "How are you doing, Emma? Really."

Emma's not sure how to respond. What can she tell Gwen that she doesn't already know? She's adjusted, but she misses her mother and her family. She misses her friends. She misses who she used to be. She can't get any of that back: there is no way home, not for her. So she shrugs, and tries to put all of that in her eyes and hopes Gwen understands.

Gwen smiles sadly, squeezing Emma's hand in hers. "It'll get better."

Emma's not sure about that. But she has to believe, because otherwise, she's not going to survive in this world that is oh, so very different from her own, and yet; enough is similar that there are days when she _does_ feel fine, days when she's not desperately clinging to her sanity.

So she shrugs again, and finishes her drink, before grabbing Gwen's hand and dragging her to the dance floor. She's not home, never will be again, but she can adapt. Gwen's not going to let her go, not going to pretend that she was born nineteen years ago, or hadn't lived through a war that is now touted as the last "good" war. Emma's a product of her time, but it is only with Gwen that she feels she doesn't have to pretend.

They're not blood, but Gwen's the closest thing she has to family. She'll hold onto that with all that she is and hope one day she'll forget all she left behind.

_/fin_


End file.
